Final Fantasy: The Chaos Chronicles
by XxTheKeyofDestinyxX
Summary: The Kingdom of Cornelia has turned into an industrial powerhouse with the need to conquer the entire world. The Warriors of Light head a Revolution to stop the onslaught, yet it isn't all human politics. Something strange controls Cornelia, something that will throw the world out of order. A Final Fantasy I novelization with a twist!
1. Chapter 1: Enforcing the Honor Code

Abel stumbled wildly through the ruins of a once peaceful town. The grand archway of a beautiful church had crumbled into dust and the perfectly geometrical cobblestone streets were flooded by scarlet rivers of blood. The night sky was blocked by the smoke of funeral pyres in the distance and Abel remembered with horror the hours he had spent arranging the bodies, some horrifically mangled beyond recognition. Through all of this, Abel managed to find a stream that had not been polluted with blood and used the water to cleanse himself and his stained armor. While he was bathing, Abel recalled the events of the last week and relayed this information over in his mind; perhaps hoping to find a loophole that would contradict the laws of space-time and allow him to erase the past.

 _One week earlier…_

"The new commander has arrived!" The guards shout spread through the garrison like wildfire. A new commander had reached the Pravoka garrison only a couple of days after the original commander, Garland, had been reassigned to protect the Princess of Cornelia, Princess Sara. Since then, the garrison had been on shaky ground. Pravoka had only recently come over Cornelian rule and the threat of a newly risen unknown Revolution had put troop morale low and led the men to believe that an attack could come at any moment. This, combined with the weak leadership of the interim commander, had left the garrison itself on the brink of mutiny. The news that the new commander would be fresh from command school helped with this little. The only saving grace was that this new commander, Abel, was the son of Garland. Of course, lineage wasn't everything. The child had barely strapped on the cape that signified he was a commanding officer before he called a meeting of the garrison's forces.

Abel strode along the garrison's unstable wooden walls while his men gathered in the courtyard below. The walls themselves were rickety and weak, the buildings poorly constructed, and the small access roads running in and out were unguarded and dirtied with the litter of the soldiers. With enemy intel stating that the garrison itself was to be attacked within the week. He would have to get the garrison in defendable shape if they were to survive. He looked at Pravoka itself. While the town had stone walls, they too were shoddy. The garrison would be the only point of defense. Abel sighed wearily. It would take him months to get the garrison in shape with 50,000 men. He only had 10,000 and they would be distrusting of the novice commander, despite his lineage. It would be a tedious job.

"Sir," Abel's second in command, Gerald, called to him, "They have assembled." Abel sat down at the edge of the wall, legs dangling over the courtyard below him. The 10,000 men were hastily assembled and out of formation. Some were talking amongst themselves or trading illegal goods. Abel cleared his throat to get their attention, to no avail. He then decided on a different strategy. He stood on the garrison wall and drew his sword. The hiss of the drawn sword attracted some attention, but that was quickly lost as well. Abel looked near the ringleader of a miniature black market and took aim. He threw his sword deftly, and it slid point first into the ground just inches away from the man's foot. He immediately had the attention of every soldier in the garrison.

"GET INTO FORMATION!" Abel's order was delivered quickly before any men had time to recover from their astonishment. The men immediately snapped into formation. "A sorry lot you all are," He paused momentarily to push his spiky blonde hair out of his face. "You've not only left the garrison in a shoddy shape for attack but you've damn near mutinied as well? You could have been working yet you decided to sleep or trade ILLEGAL FUCKING GOODS?!" Abel snatched one of the few remaining items still revolving around the troops, a tuft of Phoenix Down. "You," Abel pointed at the ringleader of the garrisons recently acquired black market, "Get out here." The seasoned private marched out of line in front of Abel. "What is your name?"

"Dargon, sir."

"Dargon huh. Do you know what this is Dargon?" Abel raised the Phoenix Down in Dargon's face.

"That is a tuft of Phoenix Down sir." Dargon's reply was unsure, yet he delivered it with intensity in his eyes.

"A Class IV Restorative," Abel looked at him coldly, "Highly rare and illegal for troops to own due to its addictiveness."

"Yes sir!"

"I could discharge you from the garrison for this, hell I could execute you."

"But you will not sir." With that sentence, Dargon had challenged Abel's authority. If he faltered here, Abel would lose the little trust his advisors and men had for him.

"Why is that?" Abel's anger was to its extremities at this point.

"Because you need me to finish the garrison," Dargon replied simply, "You need every single man if we have any hope of surviving this revolutionary assault."

"You are correct," Abel replied, "Hand over your sword." Dargon reluctantly complied and let Abel examine his sword. Then, without warning, Abel ran the blade through his stomach. Blood sprayed both Abel and the troops immediately behind Dargon. Abel removed the blade and Dargon fell in a crumpled heap at his feet. Nobody breathed for fear that Abel would do the exact same to them. Abel himself looked down at Dargon's body coldly, and then Abel became enveloped in a golden aura. The Phoenix Down in his hand magically erupted into flames. He placed the burning tuft onto Dargon's body which was soon burning as well. Abel leaned against a support beam and waited for the fire to burn out and then he lifted the now alive and well Dargon to his feet.

"Will you ever do it again?" Abel questioned Dargon with authority. Despite dying just moments ago, he still had a look of defiance in his eyes, yet Dargon agreed with Abel's order to disband the black market. "Good," Abel nodded with approval, "now go to the White Mage's Guild in town and finish patching yourself up." Dargon bowed and immediately removed himself from Abel's sight. "Gerald! Get these men to work," Abel paused for a brief moment to think about something, "Oh and promote that Private Dargon to Sergeant."


	2. Chapter 2: The Siege of Pravoka

Abel stood upon a hill looked wearily at the work he and his men had accomplished in just a week. They had successfully upgraded the garrison's walls to stone and increased its stability as well as upgraded the armaments to cannons and ballistae rather than catapults. Guards rotated shifts at the entrances and towers every hour and a group of twenty trained snipers permanently decorated the walls. Abel couldn't help but feel impressed with the improvements. Not even the royal castle had fully operable cannons yet, as they were a fairly new invention. Despite this, the garrison was by no means an impenetrable fortress. There were weak spots within the structure that were still supported by wood instead of stone, however the wood was now a stronger oak instead of the pine supports that the garrison had previously used. Abel also noticed with some concern that if the garrison were to be breached the shaky and undefended walls that surrounded Pravoka would do little to repel a military assault, which means that his men would be left out in the open. Abel fumbled briefly with the crystal fragment that hung on a chain around his neck and thought strategy. His thinking was interrupted by shouting and the sound of cannon fire. Abel moved swiftly, gathering his equipment and maintaining his composure as he raced toward his horse. He paid no attention to Gerald, who was informing him of the situation through shouts. Abel knew what was happening before he reacted in the first place. The siege had begun.

The garrison fell almost immediately. The stone walls might have held against battering rams but it was no match for powerful Fire spells. If powerful spellcasters were common, the revolution's leader himself was a sight. He was able to cast a silver aura around himself, similar to Abel's golden aura. In itself generating an aura was rare, the most powerful sages spend their entire lives trying to conjure just a flicker. Full auras like Abel's were stuff of legend and usually denoted a spellcaster of godly power. So it was considered absurd when a natural swordsman such as Abel could conjure an aura so easily. Abel's train of thought was suddenly broken when Dargon's body landed beside him after being thrown through the air by the man with the silver aura. Abel had fewer than 2,000 men left, while he was facing a revolutionary force of 20,000 strong. He sighed and immediately set off after the man with the silver aura. Abel met him in the middle of the battlefield. Their swords clashed in a fury of sparks and lightning. Abel noticed that the man was channeling a Thunder spell through his blade and wondered if he could do the same with his. Abel called forth his aura and blasted the man back with a shockwave of pure power. The man took the blast easily and landed on his feet only to be hit squarely in the chest by Abel's Ruin spell. The man fell to his knees, gasping for breath as his aura faded away. Abel took this time close the gap between them and call upon a Fire spell to strengthen his blade. As Abel raised his sword to deliver the killing blow, he noticed something extremely unsettling. The man looked almost exactly like Abel except the man was slimmer and faster. Abel shook the feeling away and raised his sword again, only to be blasted from behind by a large explosion coming from Pravoka. Abel caught a glimpse of the source of the explosion, a Black Mage with a matching black aura summoning Meteors to demolish the town. He glanced over to see a White Mage with a white aura cast a Cure spell on the man but was distracted as a Red Mage jumped on top of him with a knife in hand, fully prepared to kill him. She stopped short, however, when she noticed the crystal around his neck. She looked into his eyes before driving the knife into his leg. Abel blacked out.

"We can't leave him here!"

"We've no choice. He's a Warrior aligned with Cornelia. If we bring him with us, he'll just expose our base. We need to let him experience the corruption. Only then will he side with us."

"Syldra will kill him."

"What makes you so sure he will send Syldra?"

"It's the only loss he will accept."

"Well then we'll take the crystal with us and knock him unconscious so Syldra can't detect him."

"Syldra will just blast the area looking for him."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"We leave. We let him wake up on his own and he will escape before Syldra shows up."

"Then what?"

"We wait for him to show up in Cornelia and guide him to Thanatos."

"Thanatos will kill us if we step foot in the capital."

"Then he just needs to think we're somewhere else."

"I can't believe you took a Ruin spell just to make a plan that'll kill us down the road."

"I can't believe you stabbed him to follow that plan."

"I almost couldn't stab him, he's just so cute."

"He looks exactly like me Freya…"

"I know Kane. I know…"

"I don't know if I'm flattered or insulted."

"Just hit him again, he's stirring."

 _Present Day…_

Abel pulled himself out of the stream and put his armor on. He had to get to Cornelia before sunrise tomorrow to relay the information he had overheard to the king, the names of the revolutionaries and the names Thanatos and Syldra.


End file.
